


The Dark Lord Wilkins

by Umerue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Crack, Gen, Humor, Not Beta Read, One Big Happy Family, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umerue/pseuds/Umerue
Summary: Ninth Horcrux of Lord Voldemort was indeed a special, smart boy. He was the only one who had survived the wizarding war by skilfully relocating himself in the best hideout there was, hiding for nine months and successfully leaving the ugly English weather and Harry Potter behind for sunny climate of Australia.Crack AU where the obliviated Grangers raise the baby Voldemort.





	The Dark Lord Wilkins

Lord Voldemort rolled on his side and pulled his knees under his stomach. Supporting his swaying body with a hand placed on the soft mattress, he tried to sit up, but his body was too weak. Letting out a roar of frustration, he tried to reach his treasure, but it was too far. Voldemort fell on his face and started to cry tears of rage and indignity.  
“Don’t cry, sweet. Daddy will help you”, his Muggle father said warmly, and obediently placed the items of interest in front of him, supporting Voldemort to sit on his knee. It would have been embarrassing, but maybe this arrangement could be seen as using the Muggle as his throne, which was entirely different thing. The thought made lord Voldemort very happy, and he let out a giggle when his slaves arranged the bright yellow alphabet blocks in front of him.  
“He loves his letters.”, his Muggle mother said admiringly. “He is such a special, smart boy.”  
The corners of his mouth turned upwards. Even though they were muggles, there was no denying that the Ninth Horcrux of Lord Voldemort was indeed special, smart boy. He was the only one who had survived the wizarding war by skilfully relocating himself in the best hideout there was, hiding for nine months and successfully leaving the ugly English weather and Harry Potter behind. Due to circumstances of his escape and the fact that he was the Ninth Horcrux of already torn soul, Lord Voldemort’s memories of the wizarding war and his original goals were not very clear, but he still was very special and smart, naturally. His Muggle slaves looked in awe when he started turning the letter blocks. His hand-eye coordination had only recently progressed to this stage, and he still got urges to put everything in his mouth. Luckily, no person of value saw lord Voldemort suckling his fingers.  
“Let me show you. **I AM DAD**.”, his Muggle father wrote with blocks.  
“I think he is a bit young for literacy.”, his mother said, putting a little jar in the radiation box. The sound of little bell made Voldemort drool. He knew it meant food, and he was determined to show his slaves that solid foods were preferable to suckling Muggle nipples. His Muggle slaves were very devoted to him despite their blindness to magic and did not feed him formula because it was apparently not as advantageous to his health. Voldemort appreciated it, because he did not want to grow up as dumb as Ronald Weasley.  
“It’s your turn.”, his Muggle father said, putting a block in Lord Voldemort’s hand. He took out the **D A D** blocks and left the beginning of the sentence intact.  
Voldemort frowned thoughtfully, trying to remember how this went. Yes. He got it. He didn’t have a wand, and he didn’t want to make burning letters because then his lunch would be delayed. He had spent ten years without a body, and skipping meals made him upset. Besides, his Muggle mother often gave him bananas for dessert. Voldemort liked them. His Muggle slaves said that Australian sunshine made fruits taste so much better, and he would have agreed with them if they weren’t Muggles.  
**I AM**  
**TOM RID** he began.  
“Tom.”, his Muggle mother cried out. “Wendell, should we call him Tom? William or Harry just doesn’t fit him, and I’m tired of trying to find the right name.”  
“He looks like Tom.”, his Muggle father mused.  
Voldemort nodded firmly. He did not want to be named after a Weasley or accursed Harry Potter even if his Muggle mother liked Muggle royalty.  
“I think our son is a genius. He is only five months old, and already written his first word.”  
“It must be all those pre-natal vitamins. Or maybe the classical music, and the Shakespeare you like to read for him. He always listens so carefully.”, his Muggle mother smiled.  
“It could be an accident, of course, but I have a feeling that our Tom is the brightest boy of his age.”, his Muggle father announced. Voldemort was quite taken with him (against his will) because this new father was much more appreciative than his last one. He couldn’t help but to let out a pleased little babble. Babies have no self-control.  
“Do you want to be called Tom, love?”, his mother asked.  
He let out a screech of joy. Even in this small, chubby body, he still could exert his will over people. Pleased to be in his august presence and honoured to serve him, his Muggle father looked at him with adoration, and his Muggle mother beamed. Voldemort smiled widely, showing his two teeth.  
“Tom it is, then.”, his father promised. He took the letter blocks, turning R into W.  
**I AM TOM WILKINS.**  
Lord Voldemort looked at the last seven letters his Muggle slave had written and frowned. It would take some time to come up with a good Dark Lord anagram from these.


End file.
